Have you ever carried a backpack so heavy that it leaves red marks on your shoulders? That’s how the Escolarians feel — except what’s weighing them down isn’t books, but expectations. And those red marks? They’re reminders of the quiet resilience it takes to reach the honor roll.

Forget lucky number seven, in CEIS, there’s nothing but one number that calls the shots: 88.

Traditionally, the institution has maintained a grading system with two sides: if you have all your grades at or above 88, you’re in the honor roll; if not, you’re just a student.

As blunt as that may sound, it’s the harsh reality. For most, the difference between an 87 and an 88 is just a point. But for Escolarians, it’s the difference between being celebrated or forgotten. 

While this system might push some students to grow wings and soar beyond their limits, others are left to fall — not because they didn’t try, but because the pavement came too soon and their wings came too late.

“Hindi na siguro ako makakauwi kung meron akong grade na below 88”

While that statement may seem exaggerated, it captures the reality of many students. These grades have them in a chokehold, not just by the expectation of others, but by the pressure they put on themselves.  But this pressure isn’t the kind that explodes or creates heat; it’s an old friend whispering in your ear over and over again, until it’s the only thing keeping  you up at night, often saying, “Don’t mess up.”

The pressure makes sense — we are always told that grades shape our college opportunities, and college, in turn, shapes our future careers. Grades are framed as investments in our future, but right now, they’re just a constant weight on our present.

Meanwhile, some students take a different route when they hear that they won’t make the honor roll; they stop trying — and it’s not because they’re lazy, but because they think they’ve failed and hit rock bottom. But let me ask you this: if you’re drowning, does it cross your mind to think, “Oh, I’m underwater, I might as well sink further”? No, you grab any nearest opportunity to stay afloat and survive, right? This is the message that the grading system fails to provide: a chance of hope.  

They say grades are “just a number.” But that number decides who gets seen and who doesn’t — who’s worth calling up on stage for applause and praise, and who gets left behind, stripped of the recognition for their efforts. 

When the Parent Teacher Conference (PTC) rolled around, students were riled up for the big reveal — silently hoping their efforts had been enough to stay in the ‘safe zone’ of 88

So, let me tell you now, before they hand you that paper, your value isn’t written on it. That number will never know how many times you stayed up late at night, how many tears rolled down your cheeks before you got the courage to face the world, or how hard you try just to wake up and face the day.

If you don’t make the honor roll, life will go on — and you, inevitably, will move on. You are not a grade on a paper; you are the tree itself, a formidable symbol that keeps going no matter how harsh the gusts are. Soon, those very gusts will serve as your roots, grounding you firmly now while your future blooms above.